I thought to never knowthe agony and elation of giving birthbeing I am barren.No longer Maiden,approaching Crone,fertility escaped meleaving in its placea womb grown cold.What a fractured incomplete framing of reality I’d accepted.I’m blessed with riddles buried in folds of flesh awaiting recoveryby shovel and penstrewn amongstmy archeologist tools.I dig, chip, reveal. There is agonyfollowedContinue reading “Mother”
